An undercover agent with the department of injustice (outside church walls)

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

pruning boy #013

Episode XIII: Return to the Migrant Worker Seat

My least triumphant part of returning to the fair mother city was my first day back with Son & Dad Tree Service, Inc.

I have to give my part-time employers a better angle here on the b files. Readers of this particular series might have been misled that this is a miserable, go nowhere job. That is hardly the truth. I do have great respect for my boss and this valuable employment.

1) My employer is an all around decent guy to work for. He doesn’t belittle or beat those who work for him. 2) This job is flexible. I mean hey, I just returned from a 3 and a half week visit to Canada...and I’m still employed. 3) Everyday is a new adventure. No routine borax. Even if it becomes a mundane leaf raking job like today.

OK. That’s about it.

Honestly, my boss is a constant source of my internal laughter. Like the time I slammed the truck door on his fingers. I was horrified that this happened and apologized profusely. But by his admission, it was his own fault. Then today he slammed his fingers in his cell phone. I swear, he yelped.

Or how about all the stupid jokes he makes. They are so bad that I have long given up courtesy laughs after I realized my value to him and that my employment would never be jeopardized by my silent responses or my occasional "that was stupid". He is a big endorser of what I call "literalist humor". You know. He'll ask me my schedule and I'll say that I'm free next week. "Oh good. You're free. I'll save a lot of money". Or every time we pass a "for sale by owner" sign he responds, "What? You mean it's not for sale by NEIGHBOR?"

Shudder...

Or the multiple times he trips and falls. And because of his bad leg, he’ll just sit on the ground until I turned the chainsaw off and notice so he can ask me for help. Once I looked over while sawing and he was just sitting in the middle of the street.

I still cry thinking about that one.

He’s the clumsiest guy ever. And he makes his living with chainsaws.

Oh, it’s great to be back to my lowly hourly wage job while I ponder injustice and my place in the world amongst a confederacy of dunces.

Your boss sounds like a lot of fun! My youngest is really clumbsy too. I try really hard not to laugh when she trips over nothing. Sometimes it's hard though. Seriously he was sitting in the middle of the street? I just can't stop laughing!

case profile #000728b

As an undercover operative for the CEO of the universe, I am strategically embedded within the poverty culture of Abilene, TX (the fair mother city). This blog contains my reports, discoveries, observations, and confessions. My identity must remain concealed due to passages in The Book under Matt. 6:1-4. The names on this blog have been changed to protect the guilty.